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1039

L. M.

Let me die the death of the righteous.
Num. 23:10.

617

Mrs. Barbauld.

How blest the righteous when he dies!

When sinks a weary soul to rest!

How mildly beam the closing eyes!

How gently heaves the expiring breast!

2 So fades a summer cloud away;

So sinks the gale when storms are o’er;

So gently shuts the eye of day;

So dies a wave along the shore.

3 A holy quiet reigns around,

A calm which life nor death destroys;

And nought disturbs that peace profound

Which his unfettered soul enjoys.

4 Life’s labor done, as sinks the clay,

Light from its load the spirit flies,

While heaven and earth combine to say,

“How blest the righteous when he dies!”

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